Candy Proposal
by Sillinae
Summary: Maybe there are some questions that are a little too important for a game of 20 questions. But sometimes it's just too late, and you have to make do. Spamano fluff, oneshot.


Romano had lost a bet. Or at least, that's what he would tell anyone who asked.

Asked, that is, why he was indulging Spain so much today. And maybe, _maybe_ , Spain could sometimes come up with fun things to do, even if Romano tried as hard as he could to seem unentertained. And maybe, _maybe_ , he had felt a little guilty for snapping at Spain so often recently. A spike in his workload and a significant lack of sleep had made him even more snappish than usual. Spain, like always, took the brunt of it. He had remained as cheerful and patient as ever, which had left Romano feeling the tiniest bit remorseful.

Which was why he was currently curled up on the couch across from Spain, playing _another_ board game. For someone who usually was pretty fun, Spain's ideas had been lackluster today.

"Isn't there anything to do other than playing fucking board games all night?" Romano griped, pulling another card from the board and scowling at it. Another bad card. Of course.

Spain shrugged helplessly. "Around the house? No, not much. There's TV and movies, but we do that so much..." He was tempted to suggest something less, ah, _family friendly_ , than board games. Romano's irritable expression, however, told him that that probably wasn't a great idea at the moment. He crossed his legs underneath him, shifting into a more comfortable position as he tried to think of other things they could do. "It's too late to go out, now. We could go for a walk or something, but all the restaurants and most of the shops will be closed by now..." Romano's scowl deepened, and he quickly tossed those ideas aside.

"We could play something else, I guess. Not a board game?" He offered.

"What? Like cards?" They'd already played enough card games to last Romano several weeks.

"No, like, ah..." Spain bit his cheek. "Like truth or dare, or would you rather, or twenty questions."

Romano sighed. "Those are children's games. I haven't played those since I was small, for a reason." He pointed out. "And asking questions hardly seems like a game, anyways." Spain shook his head vigorously, pushing the game board to the side and pressing his hands to his knees.

"Well it is! It's got rules, like a game. And you're supposed to answer everything completely honestly, so it can be fun to ask anything, right? You get only twenty, though. So let's say I ask you what your favorite color is. You have to answer truthfully."

"What? That's a stupid question! And you know the answer already, anyways-"

"You have to answer!" Spain interrupted Romano's protest.

"Green! I like green! But you already fucking knew that! How is this a game?"

Spain grinned smugly, crossing his arms. "Is that your question?"

Romano gaped at him. "Yes! I mean, no! We're not even playing anything yet!" He huffed.

"It's not that hard, Roma. Is that your question or not?"

Romano let out a growl of frustration. "Fucking fine! That's my question!"

"It's a game because of all those things I said earlier, plus I said so and I'm the boss here. And now it's my turn!" Spain said triumphantly. Romano was about to protest further, but he put a hand up to silence him. "Uh uh! It's not your turn."

Romano sank back into the couch cushions with a defeated sigh. At least it wasn't like Spain could really ask any embarrassing questions, right? He already knew Romano practically as well as Romano did, and maybe even better sometimes. Romano was the same way with Spain. What could he possibly ask?

As it turned out, Spain's questions seemed just as boring as Romano hoped. Favorite food, favorite season, favorite kind of weather. Romano chipped in his own halfhearted questions when it was his turn, at least glad he could make Spain happy with minimal effort on his end.

But Spain's questions became increasingly interesting as the game went on. Even to the point where Romano would redden furiously and give snappish answers, trying desperately to come up with equally embarrassing questions for Spain. Had they slept with other people before getting together? Yes and no. How long had Romano liked Spain before anything happened between them? An embarrassingly long enough time that Romano spat out a half-assed answer, refusing to look at the grinning Spaniard across from him. They were only twelve questions in when Romano was quite sure that he was tired of answering such questions.

"Do you love me, Roma?" Spain practically sang, although there was a twinge of hopefulness in his voice.

"Can't we do anything else?" Romano said hopefully, having already have sunken down as far as possible into the cushions and with no sign of the furious heat in his face fading.

"Answer, and then you can ask again." Spain said firmly.

"A-ah..." Romano stared at him, a bit disbelieving. "I mean..." Of course he did. He loved him so much it hurt sometimes. He constantly questioned how Spain had done it to him, especially pulling shit like this. But that wasn't something he just said out loud! Spain's eager expression had faltered, though, and Romano felt a lump in his throat. "Nh... I..." It was fucking hard to say, and he wondered how Spain seemed to throw it into every other sentence. "I..."

Spain's cheerful look had faded, and the look of resignation that was replacing it felt like a punch in the gut to Romano. He turned away, forcing the words through gritted teeth. These kinds of conversations were _not_ what Romano had been counting on having tonight.

"Of course I do, you fucking blockhead." He managed. "Ti amo."

That seemed to be plenty for Antonio, who instantly brightened again. "Te amo tambien, Lovi!" He hummed, immediately flushing Romano's face red again at the use of his human nickname.

"Can we play something else, now?" Romano asked, trying to keep the pleading tone out of his voice. This game was much less casual than it had been when they started, and he did not want to see what else Spain could come up with.

"Nope!" Spain's answer came quickly. "We should finish! And now it's my turn... hmmm..."

"W-What? That wasn't part of the game, idiot! I'm really asking, can we stop-"

"Would you marry me, Romano?"

Everything went perfectly still for a moment as Romano stared wide-eyed at Spain. That was a joke, right? It had to be. They were playing a fucking game, not at a fancy dinner! And Spain still had that stupid grin on his face. How the hell was he supposed to answer such a serious question?

Especially when the truth was yes.

But that truth counted on there actually being romance involved, flowers, dinner, something fancy maybe. Romano was loathe to admit he'd thought about it at all, but he had. This was most definitely not something he'd prepared for.

"I-I..." He stammered weakly, unsure of what he was saying even as he began speaking. He should say no, right? That was against the rules of the game though, wasn't it? To lie? To hell with the game. The game didn't take priority over something this important!

But he had already hesitated for too long, and Spain's eyes were going comically wide as he watched Romano's face achieve a shade of red that had not been seen yet in the game. "R-Romano?" He breathed. Truthfully, maybe he hadn't even thought about what he was asking. Had he just proposed on accident? He was part of group of very few people who could probably accomplish such a stumble, and now they were both sitting, somewhat stunned, across from each other.

"I-I mean, it's just a game, right?" Romano laughed nervously. "We, ah, we could stop now, couldn't we?"

Spain paused, before shaking his head slowly, the shocked expression not fading from his features. "One last question. I-I think I'd like to hear your answer."

It would be so easy to lie. To brush it off as a joke, to laugh it off and forget about it. At least, it should have been. But Romano had the sinking feeling that they had crossed a line that they could not take back, and he suddenly felt like someone had set too much weight on his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He had gone too long. Too long stuttering without answering, too long staring at Spain, red-faced and unsure.

"I... I, ah..."

Spain was holding his breath, and by now they must have both known the answer.

Under his breath, in the quietest voice he could manage, he answered. "... _Sì. Ti sposerei_."

All Spain heard was a quiet mumble. "What? I'm sorry, I didn't hear you." He said, although his voice was barely a whisper as well.

There was another long silence, in which Romano tried to decide whether he could go back now. It only took a few moments for him to rule that out. It was too late, now.

He cleared his throat, before staring hard at his lap, his face positively on fire. "I said, sì. Ti sposerei. Yes." His voice, while not as strong as he would have liked it to be at a time like this, was audible this time.

Spain had gone rather pale. That was not the overenthusiastic reaction Romano had been expecting, and he suddenly felt rather sick to his stomach. Had it been a joke after all? Was he supposed to refuse? Was _Spain_ about to turn _him_ down?

Romano wasn't sure whether to be relieved or completely strung out by what came out of Spain's mouth next.

"I didn't even think, I, oh god Romano, I'm sorry, this isn't very romantic, is it?" He burst out. "Oh, but that makes me so happy, oh, oh my god-" He looked rather like he had been overloaded, unable to properly think at all. Suddenly he had shot to his feet, dashing for the front door and running for his jacket. Romano stared at him, frozen.

"W-where the fuck are you going?" He yelled finally, as Spain was opening the door. At a time like this, just leaving the house with no explanation? "You're just l-leaving?"

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry Romano, I just, I have to go! I'll be right back, I promise!" And he was gone, the door shut behind him, leaving Romano curled up alone on the couch.

He stared at the door, feeling rather numb. What the hell had just happened? Why had Spain bolted like that? He... he wasn't going to come back and say no, was he? As awkward as that had been, taking it back would be even worse. It had happened so fast, and now Romano had no idea what the situation was anymore. When he felt hot tears pricking behind his eyes he cursed, turning back over on the couch. It was only close to ten minutes, however, before he heard the door open again. Flipping back over to look, his jaw dropped at the sight of Spain, panting and frazzled-looking, leaning on the entryway. He was holding something in his hand, but Romano couldn't make it out.

Seeing Romano's less-than happy expression and red eyes, Spain let out a small gasp, pushing away from the entry way and hurrying over to the couch. "Romano! Why are you crying?"

"I'm not!" Romano snapped. "You just fucking _popped the goddamn question and then ran_. What the hell? What the fuck where you doing?"

Spain shook his head. "No! No, I wasn't running, Roma, I was going to the corner store!" He held up the thing in his hand. Candy of some sort? "I was getting this! There aren't any jewelry stores open, so I thought..." He pulled the candy out of it's wrapper with a crinkling sound, and Romano's eyes widened.

"Is that a fucking ring pop?"

"I know it's not a gold ring or anything," Spain admitted hurriedly, smiling sheepishly. "But it was so fast, it wasn't like I had time. I'll get you a nicer one later, I promise!"

And then suddenly Spain was going down on one knee, holding that fucking piece of candy as if it was his very soul and he was offering it to Romano. Romano was stock still, unsure whether to laugh or cry at the ridiculousness of this entire situation.

"Italy Romano, Lovino Vargas, mi amor, will you marry me?"

Romano stared at him, feeling quite unable to breathe. This was happening. This was happening _right now_ , in their living room, with a _candy ring_ and absolutely nothing impressive or romantic at all.

And Romano was sure that he had never been that happy in his entire life. It was so like Spain, to dash through something like this completely unprepared, with a goofball smile and a makeshift ring and an apologetic promise to smooth out the edges later.

He swallowed thickly. "Don't you already know the answer?" He whispered.

Spain was silent, just looking up at him with that sappy expression and that stupid ring in his hand.

"Fucking hell." Romano stared down at his hands. "A-ah, yeah. Yes, I will."

And suddenly Spain had slid that cheap plastic onto his finger and was practically on top of him on the couch, showering kisses over his cheeks and nose and mouth, laughing. "Te amo! Te amo tambien, Lovino! I know it's not the ideal, but I'm so happy, ah!" Romano didn't voice his opinion on the proposal, instead giving a small gasp and pushing at Spain.

"Get off of me, you oaf! I can't breathe!" Spain moved off of his chest, and then was kissing him again. Romano squirmed, halfheartedly trying to get away from the sudden attack. "You're an idiot."

"Mmm." Spain hummed against his mouth. "But I'm going to be _your_ idiot."

"Ass. You were always my idiot." This got another happy laugh out of Spain, but no reprieve from the rush of affection. By now Romano had given up on fending it off, instead hesitantly returning some of the kisses.

"… Ti amo, Toni." He said finally.

He could feel Spain smile against his lips. "Te amo, _prometido_."

* * *

Sì. Ti sposerei. - Yes. I will marry you.

Prometido - fiancé


End file.
